caustic noises
THIS FUCKING VAN
has had an alarm going off since early this afternoon. It's not the standard drama queen car alarm sound that we all know, because obviously it would have been off by now, it's this constant tick-tick-tick-tick-tick noise. Think of the sound a car makes when you hit the auto-lock button, then multiply it to all day. It's like Chinese water torture on the ears. I'm addicted to a certain kind of constant noise which causes me to be unable to sleep without a fan running, but that's called white noise. This definitely isn't white noise. My sleep fan isn't even drowning it out.
Okay, so it's not too oppressive, I'm just doing some flowery bitching for the sake of nothing. But my neighbors do run a pretty suckworthy circus. Aside from their ticking van they've also got a rottweiler that they leave in the backyard that barks all day long at a brick wall (and at me when it sees me through the kitchen window making a sandwich), and a retarded guy who hangs out in the backyard or on the corner yelling at the top of his lungs for his invisible friend Rodney. We also live next to an alley which is stewing with Puerto Rican drug dealers and where people feel it necessary to blare their horns at five hundred times the preferred length you should use your horn to warn pedestrians when leaving an alley. These aren't the only reasons I've never liked living in Logan Square, but I'm pretty sure I'll be leaving it in the spring, once it's warm and I've got money, ambition, plans, and have shaken off my gray-hair-causing 2008 jaded stress and nihilism.
I just heated up a tea bag in the microwave because I'm a moron and forgot to add water. Huh. Time for bed.
has had an alarm going off since early this afternoon. It's not the standard drama queen car alarm sound that we all know, because obviously it would have been off by now, it's this constant tick-tick-tick-tick-tick noise. Think of the sound a car makes when you hit the auto-lock button, then multiply it to all day. It's like Chinese water torture on the ears. I'm addicted to a certain kind of constant noise which causes me to be unable to sleep without a fan running, but that's called white noise. This definitely isn't white noise. My sleep fan isn't even drowning it out.
Okay, so it's not too oppressive, I'm just doing some flowery bitching for the sake of nothing. But my neighbors do run a pretty suckworthy circus. Aside from their ticking van they've also got a rottweiler that they leave in the backyard that barks all day long at a brick wall (and at me when it sees me through the kitchen window making a sandwich), and a retarded guy who hangs out in the backyard or on the corner yelling at the top of his lungs for his invisible friend Rodney. We also live next to an alley which is stewing with Puerto Rican drug dealers and where people feel it necessary to blare their horns at five hundred times the preferred length you should use your horn to warn pedestrians when leaving an alley. These aren't the only reasons I've never liked living in Logan Square, but I'm pretty sure I'll be leaving it in the spring, once it's warm and I've got money, ambition, plans, and have shaken off my gray-hair-causing 2008 jaded stress and nihilism.
I just heated up a tea bag in the microwave because I'm a moron and forgot to add water. Huh. Time for bed.